


Broken Systems

by michaelLemieux



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Gen, What am I doing, this is a teacher/student au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 01:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9049930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelLemieux/pseuds/michaelLemieux
Summary: Graves is a teacher. Credence hasn't been coming to school.





	

“Mr. Graves, this kid needs our help,” she begins. Hs headache has already reached the border of migraine, and there’s a stack of term papers higher than his laptop waiting to be graded. His eyes cut over to hers and at least she understands he wants her to ‘get the hell on with it’. “I’m not asking for you to do anything crazy, just stop by the church and see if he’s even alive! Please, I just want to know he hasn’t been dumped in a ditch somewhere!” 

“Fine, Tina. But you are not to come back into my classroom unless you have a Monster or the principal on your ass until fourth quarter,” he stipulates strongly. He understands that coffee is the choice of fuel for most teachers, but energy drinks for him are much quicker and more effective. Taste be damned, he needs the chemically enhanced energy. 

She nods and thanks him thrice over, before he shoos her away. Fluttering out, Graves refuses to actually slam his head into the desk and instead pulls his pen closer towards him. Five hours later, the janitor is gently reminding him that he will soon be the sole keeper of the building, and unless he wants to be locked in with the empty desks, he needs to pack up. Sweeping the remains of his grading into his briefcase, Percival does just that. 

The NSPS is a rundown house that evades better description without expletives, and functions much the way Percival supposes the White family to: with cash donations given more to shut up the Barebones and send them away, rather than for the furthering of their cause. 

What passes for a church session here has just been let out as Graves approaches the building. Mostly street children who came for hot meals and pamphlets are leaving, with a few queasy looking adults scattered in their midst. Credence stands at the corner of the building with a stack of papers in his hands. 

Stopping nearby, Graves considers whether or not to approach the boy. Before he thinks to answer, Credence’s eyes have found him. They fill with a warmth unknown to most who have seen the boy, but Graves sees more in him than most do. He decides to approach. 

“Hello, Credence,” he addresses calmly, holding out his hand for a pamphlet. 

“Hello, Mr. Graves,” Credence murmurs in return. 

In the moment that Credence’s palm is upturned to hand Percival the leaflet, he catches a glimpse of red that on instinct has his hand snapping out to clasp a wrist and reveal those wounds. A habit he finds hard to break. Too many times have students slipped through the cracks and died by their own hands because no one could bear to look at their scars. 

“She does this to you?” Graves asks. 

Credence hurting himself was never even an option in his mind. The boy simply did not understand. It was only others that could bring pain. Why would someone do that to themselves? He would never understand. 

Credence shies away, but nods. Graves exhales calmly. 

“Do you still refuse to come forward?” he asks. 

Another nod. 

“Why haven’t you been coming to school?” he asks. 

“Ma needs help. I can’t.” 

Graves swallows carefully. “I see.” 

**Author's Note:**

> tell me where to go with this. please. help me.


End file.
